Finally Home
by socialgal5
Summary: Over a year ago, NCIS Agent Maggie Dawson left OSP on a long-term undercover mission. She also left behind her boyfriend and teammate, G Callen. Will things have changed between them, or will they fall in love all over again? Callen/OC ON HIATUS!
1. Chapter 1

**MAGGIE**

It had been over a year since I had been in Los Angeles—thirteen months, to be exact. They had been the longest thirteen months of my life because I had been separated from the man I loved, NCIS Special Agent G. Callen. I, like Callen, was an NCIS agent who worked for OSP, the Office of Special Projects. We had the ability to go undercover anywhere, anytime, and for anything. Our lives were filled with secrecy and paranoia, but it came with the job, and we accepted that.

Callen was the best in our line of work; he could become anyone and could make people believe his story. Working with our team of Sam, Kensi, Nate, and Eric, we had taken down everything from international and domestic terrorists to drug dealers to murderers. We were unstoppable.

Callen and I had worked together for three years, half of which we had been in a secret relationship outside of work. After placing our lives in one another's hands on a daily basis, it was hard not to develop a relationship. We continued to work together with no problems, both knowing that the other could, at any moment, be deployed on a long term covert operation.

It had happened to me thirteen months ago. Director Vance had ordered me to the Cayman Islands to spy on a man suspected of helping to finance 9/11 had been discovered living. I packed my bags and left Los Angeles with no clue that I would be gone for as long as I had.

"I'll be right back." Those had been my last words to Callen as we said our private goodbyes the day I departed. He had kissed me, long and sweet, and then I left. Throughout the months of my mission, I had thought of him daily, wondering if he missed me. When I got the news that he had been shot multiple times and was probably going to die, I begged Director Vance to bring me home, but to no avail. Instead, I was forced to keep working undercover while the man I loved—and the man who loved me in return—lay in a hospital bed, fighting for his very life.

I had missed a lot during my absence. According to Hetty, whom I loved, revered, and feared at the same time, we had gotten a new NCIS agent, Dominic Vail. He had been kidnapped, held prisoner for weeks, and then killed during a rescue operation. Now, an NYPD liaison named Marty Deeks was working with our team and, Hetty had whispered confidentially, it was only a matter of time before he and Kensi finally got together. Another change was that Nate was gone. Hetty wouldn't say where or why, and I already knew I would miss his comforting presence. The biggest change that had happened while I was away was the changing of HQ. OSP was now housed in an abandoned Spanish-style hacienda that looked condemned from the outside but stunning on the inside.

I sat in a desk chair in the bullpen, observing all the details of our new building while waiting for the team to arrive. I had gotten up an hour early just so that I could be there to surprise them when they arrived first thing in the morning.

Callen and Sam walked in first, arguing over the phrase "same difference." Kensi and some shaggy blonde-haired guy were behind them.

"Sam, you can't have something that's the same, and yet different," Callen insisted. "It's a complete contradiction."

"You know, I think you argue about little things like this just to irritate me," Sam declared.

"Hetty didn't tell me that you two got married while I was gone," I laughed, standing up.

Callen stopped with his mouth still open, prepared to spar with Sam more.

"Maggie!" both Sam and Kensi exclaimed, smiles spreading across their faces.

"You're back," Kensi said, stepping forward to hug me. "I'm so glad! It's been really hard being the only girl around here for over a year!"

"I bet!" We laughed together as Sam walked around his desk to greet me. Callen rushed to reach me first, knocking Sam out of the way.

"Hello, Maggie," he said quietly.

"Hello, Callen," I replied seriously. "Did you miss me?"

"You bet," he told me, pulling me into a warm, loving hug. He wrapped his strong arms around me and pressed my body against his. Immediately, I knew that I should never have doubted that affection for me would last until I returned.

"I missed you, too," I whispered so that only he could here.

"Did I miss something?" Deeks asked Kensi, speaking in a hushed tone.

"I'll fill you in later," she hissed, elbowing him in order to get him to shut up.

I wanted to hold onto Callen for a lot longer, but I knew that Hetty would probably come sneaking in, catch us, and probably make some incredible embarrassing remark.

"Okay, you've got to share with Sam," I teased, pulling out of G's arms reluctantly. "You know he's got a tendency towards jealously."

Callen laughed as I hugged the big, black man quickly.

"It's good to have you back, Maggie," Sam assured me, smiling his warm, happy smile. For such a large, intimidating former Navy Seal, he was quite the softie at heart.

"It's good to be back," I told them all, putting one hand on my hip and running the other through my long blonde hair. "Let me tell y'all, the Cayman Islands are not all that they're cracked up to be!"

"You spent a year in the Caribbean and you're complaining?" Kensi exclaimed. "You've got to be kidding me! I was stuck here with these two," she pointed to Callen and Sam, "and this thing!" She jerked her thumb towards Deeks, the new guy.

"You must be Detective Marty Deeks," I guessed, extending my hand to him. "I'm Special Agent Maggie Dawson."

"It's nice to meet you," he said, shaking my hand firmly. "And I'm really not as bad as she makes me out to be."

"Yes, you are," Kensi insisted, folding her arms across her chest.

From upstairs, Eric whistled shrilly, getting all of our attentions. I looked up and smiled at our resident computer geek.

"Hello, Eric," I called, waving up at him. "I'm home!"

"Maggie! Hetty didn't mention that you were coming back this week. We were beginning to think you had decided to stay down there."

"No," I replied definitely, following my teammates upstairs. "Definitely not."

"That bad, huh?" Callen asked.

"Yes," I replied. "And that's all I will say about that.


	2. Chapter 2

**CALLEN**

Maggie was back. My Maggie had finally come home. She had been gone for thirteen months, three days, and ten hours. I had begun to wonder if Director Vance was ever going to return my agent to me, if he was ever going to send the woman I loved home.

When she first left, the ache from her absence was worse than any pain I had ever felt—physical or mental. Everywhere I went, I saw something that reminded me of her. Sam, Kensi, Eric, and Nate talked about her absence and the things they planned to do when she returned, but it wasn't long before they caught on to the fact that I was pining for her like a lovesick teenager.

Our relationship had never been a big secret. Hell, even Hetty seemed to have some knowledge of our romantic involvement, but she never said anything specifically. I figured that she, being a closet romantic, was content just to overlook it, unless it became a problem. Maggie and I had never had any problems keeping it professional at work, though. We both managed to stay cool when the other was in a tight spot, staring danger and almost-certain-death in the face.

Her assignment had gone on and on until I wasn't sure if she was ever going to come back. Hetty gave us regular updates on her mission, assuring us that Maggie was doing just fine and getting a great tan in the Cayman Islands. I missed her worse every day, although I had to learn to keep it hidden from everyone else. After I was gunned down, I lay in the hospital, hovering between life and death, and wishing desperately for Maggie to come. As I got stronger, Sam assured me that he had asked Director Vance to bring her home, but his request was denied.

Miraculously, I healed, and still Maggie remained undercover in the Cayman Islands. I longed for her even more now that I had escaped the clutches of death once more, but she still didn't come home. I begin to think maybe something had happened to her, and Hetty didn't want to tell me. I had Eric search the web for any crimes committed in the Cayman Islands, any unidentified bodies discovered—anything that I could find. I had been on the verge of ordering Eric to hack into Maggie's NCIS file to see what her Agent Status was when Hetty caught us. She assured us that Maggie was safe, sound, and still deep undercover.

We walked into the tactical operation room where Eric was waiting for us. He gave Maggie a high five and winked knowingly.

"It's good to have you back," he told her. "Callen's been about to go crazy for you!"

"Tell us what you've got, Eric," I said quickly, trying to change the subject.

Maggie stood a step in front of me and put her hands behind her back to watch what Eric was about to show us. I reached out and interlocked my fingers with hers, curious to see how she would react. She hesitated for a moment and then squeezed my hand tightly.

She hadn't forgotten about us. She hadn't forgotten how in love we had been before she left. She still cared about me.

"Okay," Eric began, pulling up a video on the large screen, "this video is from a convenience store robbery. The robber came into the store and ordered everyone down on the floor, demanded cash from the clerk, and then promptly shot one of the customers in the head."

I watched as the robber took the bag of cash from the clerk, then walked across the room and fired two shots into the head of one of the customers. "That was an execution style killing," I declared confidently.

"Who was the victim?" Maggie wanted to know.

"Lt. Commander Mitch Foster," Eric replied. Sam walked over to the computer screen and enlarged the photo of the Lt. Commander.

"He had high security clearance," Eric continued. "Director Vance wants us to find out if he was targeted specifically, or if this was some random murder."

"There was nothing random about that," Maggie insisted. "I'd say that whoever robbed that store did it simply to try and disguise the fact that he was going murder a specific target."

"Maggie's right," I agreed. "We need to find out who that shooter was."

"I'm already on it," Eric declared.


	3. Chapter 3

**MAGGIE**

While Eric searched for anything he could find on Lt. Commander Foster and our mysterious convenience store robber and murderer, Callen and I drove across the city to interview the clerk from the store who had seen the entire thing go down. As we sat in traffic—Callen insisted on taking the longest routes—he reached over and took my hand in his.

"I'm really glad you're home," he told me sincerely. "You have no idea how long thirteen months was."

"It was an eternity!" I exclaimed. "Being away from you when you were in the hospital, and I thought you were dying…" The words caught in my throat, and I felt as if I might cry just from thinking about it.

"It's okay, babe," Callen assured me, squeezing my hand tightly. "I'm fine. I promise." He stopped the Challenger at a red light and looked over at me intently. On impulse, I leaned across the center console and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. Callen responded immediately, actively taking part in the intimate gesture. I'm not sure how long we would have kept going if the car behind us hadn't honked its horn loudly, alerting us to the changed light.

"We'll finish that later," Callen said in a low, husky voice.

"Definitely," I agreed, biting my lower lip nervously. Callen's steamy kisses had a way of making me go all fluttery inside. They always had, and I suspected that they always would.

Our behavior became very professional when we arrived at the clerk's apartment complex. Callen and I had no problem keeping our relationship hidden from those we didn't want to know about it; we were, after all, professional liars.

"This is a nice place for someone who works at a stop n' rob," I commented, surveying the large pool in the center of the complex. The buildings all looked very new and modern.

"A little too nice," Callen added. "How long will you need?"

I shrugged. "Four minutes, tops."

"You've got three," Callen told me, making sure his shirt concealed the 9mm handgun he was carrying. "Unless you've lost your touch, that is."

"If you want, make it two," I teased him. "And no, I haven't lost my touch."

"I didn't think you had," he replied, searching the apartment doors for Number 76.

"By the way, what are we?" I wanted to know. "Are we going in as NCIS agents or something else?"

"We work for BP," Callen explained, handing me one of the clipboards that he held in his hand. "We're doing an employee evaluation to see if she's too upset over the incidence to continue working in our store."

"Impressive." I looked down at the fictional paperwork in my hands and smiled. It sure did feel good to be back with my team.

Callen knocked on the door and took a step back, taking a deep breath. He looked over at me and smiled. "It's good to have you back," he told me.

"It's good to be back," I replied.

The apartment door opened and a young woman stood in the doorway. "Can I help you?" she asked, pulling her lavender sweater tight around her body.

"Rachel Wilson?" I asked.

"That's right," she said.

"I'm Becky Thompson, and this is Roger Perry. We're with BP. Can we talk to you for a few minutes?"

Realization dawned on Rachel's face, and she visibly relaxed. "Sure, come on in. This is about that guy getting shot while I was working, isn't it?"

Callen and I walked past Rachel into the apartment, and I surveyed it quickly in one long sweep. The apartment was sparsely furnished with only a few pieces of furniture.

"You have a nice place," I remarked casually.

"Thanks. I just moved here last week," she explained. "I haven't gotten most of my new décor in yet."

"Well, it certainly is beautiful," Callen told her, sitting down on the couch. "So, can you tell us about the incident at the store the night you were working?"

Rachel took a deep breath and sat down across from us. "Well, at first it just seemed like an average robbery until that guy pulled out a gun. I didn't know he was going to shoot anybody." Rachel stopped short and swallowed uncomfortably. "I mean, in a robbery, you don't really expect anyone to get murdered."

"Of course," I agreed, trying to help her cover up the fact that she was hiding something. "Do you mind showing me where the bathroom is? I told Roger that Mexican food bothered my stomach, but he didn't listen."

"You're allergic to everything!" Callen objected.

"The bathroom is right this way," Rachel told me, getting up and leading me down the hallway.

While Callen continued to interview Rachel, I crept out of the bathroom, across the hall, and into a room that seemed to be an office. Moving very quietly, I rifled through the papers on the desk and then slid the drawer open. Rachel's checkbook was lying on top, and I immediately flipped to the last page.

"Gotcha!" I declared triumphantly to myself.

Replacing the small black book back in the drawer, I crept back to the bathroom and flushed the toilet, then turned the faucet for a few seconds.

I walked back into the living room and smiled. "Thank you so much," I told Rachel. "I'll never let Roger talk me into Mexican again!"

Callen stood up when I entered. "Well, I think we have everything, Miss. Wilson. Someone from our office will be in touch with you soon."

"Thank you," she said gratefully. "My job is really important to me, and I really want to keep it. I promise that I'm not too scared to keep working there."

"We'll certainly keep that in mind," I assured her.

Back in the car, headed to OSP, Callen looked over at me. "Well? What did you find?"

"She made a five-thousand dollar deposit into her checking account two weeks ago," I announced. "Now, tell me, where does a woman who works the night shift at a convenience store get five-thousand dollars?"

"She was definitely hiding something," Callen agreed. "But I'm just not sure what it is. Let's have Eric do a background check on her."

"I'm already on it," I told him, pulling out my brand-new cell phone.


	4. Chapter 4

**CALLEN**

When we returned to NCIS, Sam and Kensi were still out investigating the crime scene. Eric was busy researching the backgrounds of the convenience store clerk, and Maggie and I stood over his shoulder, watching as he worked.

"Where exactly is Nate?" Maggie wondered aloud. "I kinda miss him getting inside our heads."

"Hetty won't tell us," Eric declared. "Apparently, she thought Nate should've told us himself and that, until he did, we were left to guessing."

"That sounds like Hetty," Maggie grumbled.

"I only did it out of respect for Mr. Getz," a very familiar voice said from behind us. Maggie grimaced and held her breath.

"Hetty's right behind you," I whispered to Maggie.

"Damn straight I am!" Hetty declared.

Maggie coughed loudly and turned around slowly. "I was merely wishing that I had Nate here to talk to. I think he might be able to help me."

"With the current case?" Hetty wanted to know.

"No," Maggie continued slowly. "With…my last one."

"Ah." Hetty's expression went from vaguely amused to completely serious. "Well, I'm sure we can get him on video conference, if you would like."

"Why do you need to talk to Nate?" I wanted to know curiously.

"I'll explain later," Maggie told me quietly. "And Hetty, thanks for the offer. I will let you know if I want to set up a call with Nate."

"Make it a 'when', rather than an 'if'," Hetty advised her, turning to leave the room. "And make it soon."

"Okay, I've got everything you need to know about Rachel Wilson," Eric declared. "Up until a week ago, she lived in one of the crappiest apartment complexes in L.A., but when that large deposit showed up in her checking account, she moved to Reynolds Village, where you visited her."

"That apartment was really nice," Maggie commented. "She couldn't afford it until she got that money."

"Where did the money come from, Eric?" I asked.

"It was transferred from an offshore account," he explained. "Whoever this guy is, he's not a pro."

"Why do you say that?" Maggie wanted to know, folding her arms across her chest.

"Because he didn't cover his trail. His name is all over the account. Ladies and gentlemen, meet Hank Fields." Eric hit a button on his screen, and a mug shot popped up on the computer screen. "This guy has been arrested multiple times for armed robbery and grand theft auto. The thing is, this guy doesn't have five-thousand dollars. He's completely broke. All his other bank accounts are empty."

"So where did a broke criminal get the money?" Maggie wondered.

"And what did he pay Rachel Wilson for?" I asked myself.

"Let's bring her in and lean on her a little," Maggie suggested.

In an hour, Rachel Wilson was sitting in the boathouse interrogation room, fidgeting nervously. She had practically panicked when Maggie and I showed up and announced that we were really federal agents investigating the murder the Lt. Commander. She kept insisting that she had done nothing wrong, but she was most evidently nervous.

Kensi, Deeks, and Sam walked in just before Maggie began to interrogate Rachel.

"Already back in the interrogation room?" Sam laughed at Maggie. "This I cannot wait to see."

"Why?" Deeks wanted to know.

"Maggie has a record," I explained. "She's good at getting them to crack."

"Ha!" Deeks laughed short to himself and then looked around at everyone else who was dead serious.

Maggie stared him down. "Give me a time limit," she told him.

"A time limit?" Deeks repeated uncertainly.

"How long do you think it will take me to get her to talk?" Maggie wanted to know, putting her hands on her hips. It took everything I had not to kiss her right then and there; somehow, however, I managed to resist.

"Fifteen minutes," Deeks bet.

"I can do it in five," she declared confidently.

"What're the stakes?" Deeks wanted to know.

"Thirty bucks?" Maggie suggested.

"Deal."

As Maggie headed into the interrogation room, I shook my head at Deeks. "You're going to lose," I promised him. "Maggie is the best at what she does."

"Better than you?" Deeks wanted to know.

"Call her a female Callen, if you will," I advised him.


	5. Chapter 5

**MAGGIE**

Deeks had made me want to cut my interrogation time in half, so I walked into that room determined to get the information I needed in less than five minutes. Unbeknownst to my teammates, I started the stopwatch on my wristwatch so I could keep track of my time.

"You lied to us, Rachel," I declared, closing the door behind myself and carelessly dropping a folder down on the metal table.

"No, I didn't," she insisted anxiously. "You really aren't with BP? You're really a federal agent?"

"Yes, I'm an NCIS agent. Now, let's get back to you lying to us."

"I didn't lie!" she insisted.

"Then explain this," I ordered her harshly, flipping a copy of her most recent bank statement towards her. "You work at a convenience store, Rachel. You don't have anyone to give you money—parents, grandparents, aunts, or uncles. And yet, you somehow managed to rent out an apartment in Reynolds, not a cheap place. Of course, you only got the apartment after you got the five-thousand dollars deposited into your banking account." I glanced down at my watch and saw that I had been the room for forty-five seconds so far. I needed to hurry.

"So I got a really big bonus at work," Rachel mumbled. "I'm good at what I do."

"Nobody's that good," I told her. "Now, tell me what really happened. Where did the money come from?"

"It's mine, honest," she declared.

"But where did it come from?" I demanded to know, slamming my hand down on the table.

"I don't know his name, okay?" she cried desperately. "He never told me his name!"

"But he did pay you for something illegal, didn't he?" I pushed, walking around behind her and standing tall. It was one of my best intimidation tactics, and I had used it multiple times.

"It wasn't illegal! He just—he just wanted me to flirt with the Navy guy who came in there every evening. He said to find out anything I could about him—where he lived, his phone number, what kind of car he drove—anything," Rachel explained, wiping her teary eyes.

"That didn't seem a bit odd to you?" I wanted to know. Really? How dumb could she be?

"This guy told me that he thought the Navy officer might be his long lost brother, or something like that, but he didn't want to approach him right away, until he was certain. Am I in trouble for this?"

"Rachel, right now, you're looking at being charged as an accessory to murder," I told her honestly. "I need you to tell me everything. I need to know anything you can remember about the man who paid you."

"He was tall with dark hair and crooked teeth," she informed me. "He was a chain smoker, and he had a scar on his right eye."

Immediately, I envisioned the photo of Hank Fields, the man who had wired the money to Rachel Wilson. "If I show you a picture, would you be able to identify this man?" I asked her.

"I think so," she said truthfully. "I swear, Agent Dawson, I never thought I was doing anything illegal. I really believed this guy. I guess I should have been smart enough to realize that nobody would pay that kind of money for petty information like that. I'm such a fool."

"But you've helped us," I reminded her kindly. "That'll look good to the judge and the jury."

"Thank you." She smiled up at me sorrowfully. "You know, that Navy officer was a really nice guy. I flirted with him to get the information, and he flirted back. He really made me feel special. You know, the way a girl feels when a nice guy pays attention to her? It's kinda flattering."

"Yes, it's very flattering," I agreed, thinking of Callen and how special he made me feel. "Someone will be in soon to show you a picture that we think is the man who did this."

I walked back out into the boatshed and snatched the cash from Deeks' fingertips. "Four and a half minutes," I declared. "Beat that, Detective Deeks!"

"Wow!" His eyes were wide for a few seconds and then he bowed low. "I kneel to the queen of interrogations," he told me. "I'm impressed."

"It takes lots of practice," I assured him. "You'll get there."

"She learned from the best," Callen informed Deeks. "Me."

"It's true," I agreed. "I did learn from the master. Callen taught me everything I know about being an NCIS agent."

Just at that very moment, Eric's face popped up on the plasma. "Hey, guys, I've got something really big!" he declared. "Get this: Lt. Commander Foster was supposed to ship out to Iraq in ten days. Now that he's dead, someone else takes his place as the leader of a highly specialized team of intelligence analysts. That someone is another Lt. Commander named Harold Fields."

"Harold Fields?" Kensi repeated. "Is he related to Hank Fields?"

"They're brothers," Eric announced.

"That's either significant, or it's a hell of a coincidence," Callen pointed out.

"I don't believe in coincidences," I said. "What would Lt. Commander Fields get out of taking Foster's place, Eric?"

"Besides a front row seat to Iraq? Higher security clearance and a bigger paycheck," the resident computer nerd informed us.

"Either of which could be considered a motive to have Foster killed," Sam declared.

"Sam, you and Kensi go talk to Lt. Commander Fields. Eric, get us an address on Hank. I want to have them both in the same interrogation room and see how they act," Callen instructed his team. "Now, who wants to go with me to get Hank?"

"Take Deeks," I advised him. "I'd like to talk to Hetty for a few minutes."

While the others were gone, I back to the main building to talk to Hetty. She was sitting at her desk, going through old papers. I sat down in the chair in front of her desk.

"Hetty, can you really arrange a video conference with Nate?" I wanted to know.

"I certainly could," she replied confidently. "He is our operation psychologist, after all. But, may I ask, why you are so eager to talk with him. I tend to find that you and your teammates don't always appreciate Mr. Getz's profession."

I sighed. "No, we don't. Still, I really think it would help me to talk to him. There's some things going on in my head that I need to get sorted out."

"Are you referring to what happened on your undercover mission?" Hetty asked me.

"Yes," I replied quietly. "I've never been so scared in my life, Hetty. It was the worst year of my life."

"So you wrote in your report." Hetty took a long sip of tea and then folded her hands in her lap. "I will arrange a chat with Mr. Getz for you, but in the meantime, I think you should tell the others about what happened. Perhaps Mr. Callen could be of some help to you."

"I don't want to tell them just yet, Hetty," I told her sadly. "Not yet."


	6. Chapter 6

**CALLEN**

Something bad had happened to Maggie on her last undercover operation. I wasn't sure what it was, but I knew that it had left her desperate enough to talk to Nate. Of all of us, Maggie had always been the one most open to help from Nate. That wasn't to say that she didn't have a hard past; Maggie had been abused as a child and ended up living with an elderly aunt and uncle throughout high school. After their death, she ended up joining the Marine Corps because it was a career field that had endless opportunities for a young woman who didn't have any ties anywhere. She moved up through the ranks with amazing speed until two gunshots—one in the shoulder and the other in her hip—left her with an honorable discharge from the USMC. After she recovered from her injuries, she got a job with NCIS. After four years with the NCIS: Pearl Harbor, Hetty had brought Maggie to OSP where she fit in perfectly. Like myself, she had few ties to the outside world. Her family was all dead or estranged, and her only friends were military buddies who were fighting overseas.

Maggie had always been good at hiding things, but not from me. I had kept so much hidden for so long that I could see how she concealed things from me. Maybe that's what had attracted me to Maggie the most. She was a happy person, but she always had an underlying sadness that she rarely spoke of.

Even though I'd only been around Maggie for seven hours now, I had already seen part of a scar peeking out from underneath her shirtsleeve. It was thin and narrow, most likely from a knife blade, but I couldn't be sure. I knew that Maggie would open up to me eventually. She just needed time, and I was a fairly patient man when it came to dealing with the woman that I loved.

When Deeks and I returned with Hank Fields, I let the LAPD Detective escort the suspect to the boathouse while I went to find Maggie. Hetty told me that my teammate and girlfriend was in the shooting range, and I walked in to find her unloading a full clip into a paper target.

"Letting off a little steam?" I asked when she finished firing and took off her headset. "Or just getting in some practice."

"Practice," she told me simply, smiling as she put her gun down. "I haven't shot at anyone or anything in a while, and I figured I needed to see how my aim was looking."

The machine brought Maggie's target up to her shooting booth, and she sighed loudly. "Obviously, it's off a little."

Maggie was right; all of her shots were an inch to the right of the target's head or chest. "Yeah…" I held the paper in my hands and shook my head.

"Any advice?" she asked me. "Any tips to improve my shot?"

"Let's try it again," I suggested. "Reload, baby."

"Yes, Boss," she teased, quickly inserting a fresh clip into her Glock. "Okay, what next."

"Take your stance," I instructed her.

Maggie planted her feet firmly in the ground and aimed at the target. I smiled at the determined look on her face as I walked around behind her. Very carefully, I lined my boots up behind hers and nudged her knees gently with mine. She bent them ever so slightly, which was exactly what I had wanted her to do.

"You could have just told me to bend my knees slightly," she whispered. I could tell by the tone of her voice that she was smiling and probably blushing.

"But I wouldn't have gotten to get this close to you," I pointed out, putting one of my hands on her hip. "Okay, now take a deep, deep breath and focus on where you want the bullet to go."

Maggie breathed in deep, and I could feel her chest rise and fall. She hesitated for two or three seconds and then fired three times in rapid succession. All three shots were right on the mark.

"Good job, Maggie," I told her quietly.

"Is this a marksmanship lesson, or should I interpret things the way they appear?" Hetty wanted to know, appearing from nowhere.

"Maggie asked me for a little help with her shooting," I explained, taking a step away from my girlfriend. "You should never assume that something is how it appears, Hetty."

"Believe me, Mr. Callen, if everything was how it appeared around here sometimes, none of you would be working for this agency anymore," Hetty declared. "Now, why don't you go assist the rest of your team with the interrogations?"

Hank and Harold broke easily when they learned that we had tied them to the murder of Lt. Commander Foster. They each confessed to their part in his murder: Harold to hiring his shady brother to pay the convenience store clerk for information on the approximate time that Foster visited the store daily. He wanted Foster dead so that he could get the position he felt he deserved. Hank admitted to robbing the store and shooting Foster for his brother. He also admitted to paying Rachel Wilson a sum of five-thousand dollars to give him information. It was an open-and-close case, and we were now free to go home.

"So, where're we going tonight?" Sam wanted to know as we all gathered up our stuff. "We have to celebrate Maggie's homecoming, right?"

"I think a night out is exactly what we all need," Hetty declared, walking into the bullpen. "Where did you have in mind, Mr. Hanna?"

"Well, I was thinking we'd let Maggie decide that, Hetty," Sam replied, looking at Maggie expectantly.

"I can only think of one place that I really, really want to go tonight," Maggie said, casting a glance towards me. "Zac's Place."

She would choose Zac's Place, a popular bar that had a wide variety of customers. It had been the location of her first undercover operation where her job had been to seduce me without letting on to me that she was an NCIS agent. I could still remember it vividly:

_Hetty had sent me Zac's Place, saying that I needed to relax and have a drink after a particularly hard case. I had no idea that she was testing out new agents on me. I was only halfway through my first beer when a young, attractive blonde came stalking into the building. She flung her purse down onto the bar and huffily took a seat _

_ "I'm such a idiot," she muttered angrily to herself. Then, she looked over at me. "Can I ask you a question?" she wanted to know._

_ "Sure," I told her, smiling kindly. "Go ahead." _

_ "Why does saying 'I love you' to a guy scare him off so bad? I mean, is it really that intimidating of a line? It's pretty simple, isn't it?" _

_ "Well…" This girl had given me a question that I wasn't sure I could answer the way she wanted me to, not to mention the fact that her blue eyes were making my heart beat a little faster. Something about them was incredibly bewitching. "I guess that we just get nervous when a really beautiful girl falls in love with us. I mean, what happens if we can't live up to your expectations?" _

_ My answer seemed to satisfy her. "Hmm…that's an interesting theory." She stuck her hand out. "I'm Anna." _

_ "Jack," I lied to her. My current driver's license was in the name of Jack Burke, and I never used my real name anyway. _

_ "It's very nice to meet you, Jack." _

Over the next ten minutes, Anna proceeded to tell me about her ex-boyfriend who had run for the hills when she professed to be in love with him. Eventually, she moved to the stool next to me, and twenty minutes later, I was buying her a martini.

_"Would you like to get out of here?" she asked me, an hour after walking into the bar. "Maybe go back to my place for a beer?" _

_ I thought about it for a minute; Anna seemed like a sweet girl—not a phony and fake like most of the girls that I met were. "Sure," I agreed. "Let's go." _

_ "Gotcha!" she exclaimed, pulling out her cell phone. "You're a sucker for a sweet, innocent girl, huh? Oh, I can't wait to tell Hetty!" _

Only then had I realized that "Anna", or whoever she was, wasn't really a sad girl looking for a one-night stand. She knew Hetty, which meant that she could only be one thing…an NCIS Special Agent.


	7. Chapter 7

**MAGGIE**

In forty-five minutes, Hetty, Sam, Eric, Kensi, Deeks, Callen and I were all seated around a table at Zac's Place, ordering a round of beers. I loved this old bar; it was where I had first laid eyes on Callen when I first became an NCIS agent. He had been my target, and Hetty told me that she wanted me to convince him to leave with me. It had been easier than I thought; apparently, Agent Callen was a sucker for a sob story and a sweet smile. For the next year or so, there had been an underlying tension and current between us. Call it attraction, call it competitiveness, call it whatever you wanted—it was fun and annoying at the same. He and I bantered back and forth constantly and were always trying to prove our skills to the other. I could still remember how we had ended up becoming boyfriend and girlfriend. It was still as fresh in my mind as the day it had happened…

_It had been a long, hard day at work. I had gone undercover as a club waitress to capture the attention of a drug dealer who had caused the overdose of two sailors. He had caught onto who I was and began to knock me around violently. _

_ "Who do you work for?" he demanded to know, kicking me in the ribs with his boot. _

_ I balled up tight, clutching my stomach with both hands as I shook my head adamantly; I wasn't giving up anything. Sam and Callen would be here soon to save me. I just had to hold out for them. _

_ "Pick her up!" Sanchez ordered his men. One of them grabbed a fistful of my hair and jerked me to my feet roughly. Ignoring the protests my scalp was putting up, I whirled around and delivered a solid punch to the man's jaw. He let go of me and I managed to kick another one of Sanchez's men in the gut before someone hit the back of my neck with a shotgun barrel. I crumpled like a burning leaf, crying out in pain as I hit the cold, concrete floor. _

_ "You bitch," the man I had punched swore angrily, kicking me again. Two of them picked me up, and I didn't see where the blows came from, but I took several hard punches to the face. I tasted blood on my lip when one of their fists smashed it against my teeth. _

_ "Take care of her," Sanchez ordered his men. "And dispose of the body. I don't want anyone finding out that we killed her." _

_ "I'm a federal agent," I declared, purposely leaving out which agency I worked for. "My people will hunt you down to the end of the world if you kill me." _

_ Sanchez just laughed and headed for the door. Someone pressed a knife blade to my throat, and my thoughts immediately traveled to Callen. I didn't want to die because I wanted to find out what it was like to belong to Callen, to be his girlfriend, to kiss him. _

_ Just as I felt the knife begin to slice into my skin, shots rang out. The knife fell away from my throat and the two men holding me dropped, dead. I fell back to the floor, limp and gasping for breath. _

_ "Maggie!" Callen shouted, rushing into the room with his gun drawn. He checked everywhere for more of Sanchez's men and then rushed to my side. "Are you okay?" he wanted to know. "Tell me you're okay, Maggie!" _

_ As Callen put his arms around me and helped me to my feet, I leaned against his strong body for support. "I knew you would come," I gasped, my chest rising and falling heavily as I tried to catch my breath. "They were going to slit my throat." _

_ "You're safe, Mags," he assured me, holding me close. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you." _

_ "My head hurts," I mumbled. "He hit me…with his gun." _

_ "I've got you," he whispered, scooping me up easily. _

_ A couple of hours later, I lay on the couch in the OSP lounge, holding an ice pack against my jaw and trying not to move too much. Nate had already been in to debrief me and I had scrawled a quick report down for Macy. _

_ Callen knocked on the door and stuck his head inside. "Can I come in?" he wanted to know. _

_ "Access granted," I told him, waving my free hand at him. _

_ "How're you doing?" he wanted to know, walking in and sitting beside me on the edge of the couch. _

_ "I think I'm not going home tonight," I admitted honestly. "I'm too sore to walk all the way to my car." _

_ "Let me see." Callen put his hand over mine and moved the ice pack away from my cheek. "That's a nice bruise you've got there." _

_ "You gonna kiss it and make it feel better?" I teased him, smiling up at my handsome team leader. _

_ "Yeah, I am," he replied seriously. _

_ I held my breath as G leaned in close and brushed his lips lightly against my cheek. He slowly pressed light, feathery kisses across my skin until he reached my lips. I brought my hand up to his face and pressed my forehead against his. _

_ "Maggie…" He breathed my name so quietly that I thought I was imagining it. _

_ "Don't stop, G," I pleaded, pulling him closer. "Please don't stop. I don't want you to stop." _

_ That was all the encouragement Callen needed; he pressed his lips to mine in a gentle, yet urgent kiss. _

_ Later that night, after Callen had driven me back to my apartment, we lay curled up on the couch together. He admitted that he had thought I was going to die earlier in the day, and the thought nearly killed him. _

That was how our blissful romance had begun. A simple mission turned dangerous, and both of us realizing how important the one was to the other. As we sat at the table, Callen clasped my hand tightly in his underneath the table.

"So, catch me up on everything that I missed while I was gone," I told the team. "I want every detail. Nothing is too small or insignificant."

"Hetty got Callen to start drinking real tea," Sam announced.

"I can't taste the paper anymore," Callen insisted. "It's actually really good."

"I got a Segway!" Eric announced cheerfully. Then, his expression changed. "But Hetty took it away."

"It was an insurance liability, Mr. Beale," Hetty declared. "If you had gone down those stairs, Director Vance would never have let me hear the end of it."

"Yeah, I guess so," Eric mumbled, sipping his beer.

"Anything else I should know about?" I asked, smiling wide. It was so good to be home with all of my friends.

"We discovered that Sam keeps a Michael Jackson sequined glove in a military-grade safe," Kensi reminded everyone. "And that Hetty's most prized possession was a car that was crashed in Monte Carlo."

"I bought a house!" Callen told me suddenly.

I choked on my beer. "You bought a house?" I exclaimed, unable to believe what I had just been told.


	8. Chapter 8

**CALLEN**

"Keep your eyes closed," I told Maggie, helping her get out of the Challenger. She was allowing me to lead her up the walk to my new house, and I wanted her to keep her eyes closed until we got closer.

"I am," Maggie promised, covering her eyes with her hand. "Trust me, G."

I pulled her close against me and pressed my lips against hers firmly. "Never," I whispered teasingly into her ear.

"Hurry up, Callen!" she pleaded, jumping around excitedly. "I want to see your house."

"Okay, step up three times in a row," I instructed her, holding both of her hands tightly in mine. She obeyed me carefully, and I stopped her halfway up the path to the front porch.

"Open your eyes, baby," I finally told her.

Maggie took a deep breath and opened her greenish-blue eyes, taking in my house in one big sweeping glance. "Oh G! It's so charming," she exclaimed, a smile spreading across her face. "It's absolutely perfect!"

"You really like it?" I asked her. Maggie's approval of my new, permanent residence was very important to me.

"Absolutely," she told me. "It's perfect for you, Callen."

I pulled Maggie back into my arms and looked down into her sweet face. Her skin was creamy and slightly tanned due to Asian roots. "I'm glad you're back, Mags," I whispered. "And I'm glad you like my house." I leaned down and kissed her, long and slow. She wrapped her arms around me and, before I could help myself, I scooped her up and carried her up the front steps and into the house.

"How romantic," she laughed merrily as I set her down inside. "Your neighbors will complain about your public displays of affection, I bet."

"All the neighbors like me because I'm a model citizen," he insisted. "Come on, I want to show you something."

I lead Maggie into my bedroom and opened the closet door to show her the initials that I had carved years ago. Realization dawned in her eyes.

"This was one of your foster homes." It was a statement, not a question.

"I spent the happiest part of my childhood in this house," I declared, sitting down on the bed. I still hadn't bought sheets or a mattress pad for it, so I was sitting on the bare mattress.

"My poor Callen." Maggie held my face between her hands, and her eyebrows furrowed together. "I only know little pieces about your life before NCIS, but it hurts me to think that anyone could have ever been mean or cruel to you."

"It was a long time ago," I dismissed her worries. "It doesn't get to me much anymore."

"Ice cream sounds good," Maggie said suddenly, standing up. "Do you have any junk food?"

I caught her arm before she could get away and spun her back around, easing her down onto the mattress easily. "You're not getting away that easy," I told her. "You've been gone for so long that I barely remember what it was like to kiss you."

"When I was undercover, I kept wishing you were there to watch my back," Maggie admitted. "Remember that time we played a married couple at that hotel downtown? That was the best mission we ever went on, I think."

"Silk sheets, mini-bar, and that incredible t-bone steak that room service delivered," I remembered, grinning impishly.

Maggie punched me playfully. "You know there was more to it than that," she insisted, pulling me down on top of her. She looped one arm around my neck and hooked one leg over my hip. I pressed my mouth against hers and, this time, it was intense and feverish. My hands roved over her body, and she ran her fingers through the short stubble of my hair. Somehow, in the midst of our heated making out, Maggie's shirt came off, and it was soon followed by mine. Her hands roamed over my bare chest and back, and then she pulled away suddenly. Her hand was covering one of the scars that had appeared as I was healing from the shooting that had left me with five bullet-holes in me.

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

"Is that from…while I was gone?" she wanted to know, her bright eyes filled with fear.

"Yes, it is."

Maggie pushed me off of her suddenly and sat up, hugging herself tightly. "It was so hard for me, G," she whispered. In a matter of seconds, she had gone from sexy to scared. "I was so worried about you, and Vance wouldn't let me come home."

"I know you would have been here if you could," I assured her, putting my arms around her tightly and pulling her back against my chest. "But I really am okay. You have to believe me."

She shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I love you so much, and it killed me not to be here with you. I wanted to quit my mission and come home."

"But you did your job, and we're together again," I pointed out, kissing her bare shoulder.

"I know we are," Maggie said, smiling through her tears.

I traced the long, thin scar on Maggie's arm. "Now, why don't you tell me what happened to you," I suggested quietly.

"Hetty didn't tell you?" Maggie seemed surprised as she stood up and pulled her army green sweater on over her bra.

"She figured you would tell me when you were ready."

Maggie pondered this for a little while. "I was undercover as an arms dealer's girlfriend. The problem was that he was rough on his girlfriends. He hit me at least once a day, if not more. He would shove me, knock me into the wall, pull my hair—it just depended on how angry he was at me. I had to make a trip to the E.R. once or twice to get some stitches."

Anger flooded through me. I wanted to hurt the man who had hurt my girl. Not only had he physically scarred her, but he had also left her with some emotional scars as well. "Didn't anyone at the emergency room want to know why you were busted up?" I asked.

"Not really," she replied, sitting back down on the bed beside me and wiping her eyes. "The hardest part was not being able to show off my fighting skills to fend him off."

"And the scar?" I pressed. "How did you get that?"

"A week before I came home, he got angry over a business deal gone wrong. I was the nearest person to him, and he had a letter opener in his hand. We struggled, and he slashed my arm." Maggie stopped and swallowed hard. "When he saw how much blood I was losing, he bolted. My contact found me on the floor of the suite, bleeding profusely. The doctors at the nearby hospital had to give me two liters of blood."

"Son of a bitch," I swore under my breath. "Why the hell didn't Vance bring you home earlier?"

"He thought we'd be able to get the dealer, but in the end, he had an almost-dead agent and no arms dealer," Maggie explained. "He's pretty upset over it, but he sent me home once I recovered."

"Both of us nearly died," I whispered, brushing my fingertips along her jaw. "And each of us only wanting to be at the other's side."

"I love you, G," Maggie whispered. "And I don't every want to leave you again."

"I love you, too," I told her honestly, pulling her close against my chest. She wrapped her arms around me and held on tight.

"Let's forget ice cream and just sleep right here," she suggested. "I don't want to be anywhere but right here."

"Me neither," I agreed, easing us back onto the mattress and pulling Maggie's body closer to mine. I knew that it wouldn't be long before both of us was sound asleep, and I had a feeling that my nightmares wouldn't be paying me a visit tonight. Not now that I had Maggie back in my life and in my arms.

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, added me to his story alert, or "favorited" my story. I'm having fun writing this, and I've got some great plans for where this is going. Please keep reading and reviewing!**


	9. Chapter 9

**MAGGIE**

For the first time in weeks, I woke up from a full night's sleep that hadn't been interrupted by vivid, terrifying nightmares. Instead, I woke up feeling warm and safe as I lay in Callen's strong arms. He was still holding me close against his bare chest but still sleeping soundly.

I propped up on my elbow and stared down at my handsome boyfriend, studying his face. He had tiny wrinkles around his eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He still had his slight, signature scuff and his close buzz haircut that resembled one a lot of military guys wore. With my fingertip, I traced the muscle contours on his upper arm, and then traced each of the scars on his chest.

"You know, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to seduce me," Callen whispered, smiling without opening his eyes.

"No, just memorizing every single detail about you," I corrected him. "If I ever have to leave again, I don't want to forget anything."

G finally opened his ice blue eyes and reached out to nudge my chin affectionately. "I'm never letting Vance send you away like that again, no matter what," he insisted. "You belong here, with me."

"Now you're trying to seduce me," I laughed. "You sure know how to make a girl go all gooey inside, G."

"They do say I'm the best," he admitted.

"You're terrible," I declared, slapping his arm playfully. He retaliated by starting to tickle my sides, something that he knew rendered me completely helpless. "Callen, stop!" I begged, giggling uncontrollably. We rolled around on the bed for several minutes, Callen refusing to quit tickling me.

Somehow, we managed to get ready for work and stop by the doughnut shop without being late. I was generous and bought enough for everyone to share

"Sam will love you," Callen told me as he merged onto the interstate. "You know how he is about doughnuts."

"I remember," I laughed, sipping the coffee that I'd bought to drink on the way to work. "It still amazes me how much Los Angeles feels like home, now that I'm back."

"Did you miss your apartment that much?" Callen was amazed. "Or was it just me?"

"Definitely you," I told him, leaning my head over against his shoulder. "My home is wherever you are."

"And I'm good as long as I'm with you," Callen assured me, kissing the top of my head.

When we got to OSP, we barely had time to eat our doughnuts and chat with Sam, Kensi and Deeks before Eric whistled for us to come upstairs.

"We've caught a case," he declared. "And this one is going to be interesting."

"Interesting?" I repeated as we headed upstairs. "In a good way or a bad way?"

Eric thought for a moment. "Yet to be determined," he finally said.

"A fertility clinic at Camp Pendleton was robbed last night," Eric announced. "And a message was left on the wall." He tapped a button on the remote, and a picture a white wall sprayed with red pain appeared. The pain said, in dripping red letters, "Once a baby killer, now a baby maker. You'll meet your end soon."

"Okay, so somebody was mad," Sam chuckled. "That doesn't really warrant an NCIS investigation, does it?"

"Here's the thing," Eric continued. "The head doctor at the clinic is named Peter Wilson, but up until fifteen years ago, Peter Wilson didn't exist."

"Didn't exist?" Kensi echoed. "What are you saying, that this guy's only a child?"

"No, I'm saying that Peter Wilson is a fake name. Guys, meet Petrov Bolonov." Eric hit another button, and a rap sheet popped up. "He was a huge activist back in the eighties, and he is suspected for being the mastermind behind several fertility clinic bombings back then. But, fifteen years ago, Petrov disappeared off the face of the earth."

"So…what you're saying is that Dr. Peter Wilson, a man renowned for helping couples get pregnant, is really a former abortion activist?" I asked, trying to clarify the confusing information that Eric had just given us.

"Exactly. So, either he's had a complete change of heart, or he's up to something. Either way, someone has figured out that Dr. Wilson isn't the kind, loving man he appears to be."

"Did the clinic close down today after the robbery?" I wanted to know.

"Nope. Apparently, they had too many appointments to cancel. Fortunately for you, Hetty managed to squeeze us in."

"Squeeze us in?" Callen echoed. "What are you talking about?"

"We've got an appointment for Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher," Eric declared. "So, one of you three guys and one of you two girls are going undercover as a married couple."

"I think Deeks and Kensi should go," Sam spoke up. "Since the last time they played a couple, everything went so well."

"Well, I think that Maggie and Callen should do the honors," Kensi insisted desperately. "After all, they haven't worked together in a year, and I think we could all use some entertainment."

"No complaints from me," I said truthfully.

"Then it's settled. Maggie and I are going to try to get pregnant," Callen declared.

Downstairs, Hetty gave me some clothes that she thought were appropriate for a woman trying to get pregnant. "You'll need to be sweet and wistful," she instructed me. "You want a baby more than anything, and the old-fashioned way just isn't cutting it. Perhaps Mr. Callen isn't quite the stud he thinks he is."

"Or maybe it's me," I teased, blushing at the thought of Callen and me…

I had been raised a Christian, and those principals had stuck with me throughout life. With what I did for a living—pretending to be someone else, carrying a gun, and occasionally killing someone—I wasn't sure whether or not God would be able to forgive me, but I certainly wasn't messing my chances up by sinning when I didn't have to. In all the time that we had been dating, Callen and I had never made love. Not once. It wasn't that I wasn't tempted to; I just wanted to keep my belief system intact, and Callen respected that.

"I always wanted children," Hetty reminisced sadly. "Unfortunately, with my line of work, I was never able to do that."

Sympathy flooded through me. "Aw, Hetty, that's so sad. I think you would have made a great mom. Your children certainly wouldn't have ever gotten away with anything. That's for sure!"

"Very true," Hetty agreed, handing me a pink shirt and a matching skirt. "This should do nicely, I think."

In thirty minutes, Callen and I were ready to go. He was playing the role of an enlisted Marine, Gunnery Sgt. Chris Fletcher. I was his loving, doting wife, Amy. As we left the building, I could already feel my heart beginning to pound in my chest. Callen and I were going undercover again, and I felt as if my homecoming was complete.


	10. Chapter 10

**TEAM(minus Callen and Maggie)**

"Did I miss anything?" Kensi wanted to know, rushing back into the operation room. "I brought the popcorn."

"They're still en route," Deeks told her, his scruffy eyebrows furrowing together in puzzlement. "Popcorn? What the hell do you need popcorn for?"

"For the show, Mr. Deeks," Hetty declared, coming into the room and staring at Deeks in amazement.

"Show?" he echoed.

"Maggie and Callen work great together," Eric explained, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the large bowl that Kensi was holding in her hands.

"It's like watching Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio in _Titanic_," Kensi declared. "Their chemistry is fantastic!"

"Wait." Deeks stopped suddenly and turned towards Kensi. "Are you saying that you actually like that movie?"

"Titanic?" Kensi nodded adamantly. "Are you kidding? It's a beautiful love story! How can you not like it?"

Deeks was taken aback. "Um, maybe because I'm a normal, red-blooded American man who is most definitely not gay. Although, I will say, Kate Winslet is hot! I'll certainly give her that."

Kensi shook her head and muttered under her breath, "I work with losers."

**CALLEN**

When Maggie and I pulled up to the fertility clinic, I turned the engine off and turned to her. "Ready?" I asked.

"Let's do this," she told me, smiling brightly and squeezing my hand.

We turned our microphones and cameras on, and Eric informed us that the sound and picture was coming in clearly. Maggie climbed out of the car and so did I. She looked simply adorable in her undercover outfit. Hetty had dressed her in a pink cotton top that accentuated her great tan and a skirt that fell just above her knees, displaying her toned, muscular legs.

"You look beautiful," I told her before I could stop myself. It didn't matter; I didn't care if everyone on the team knew how I felt about Maggie.

"Thanks," she replied, blushing a light shade of pink.

"C'mon." I grabbed her hand, and we headed into the office.

Dr. Wilson's office was crowded with numerous couples and several women by themselves. Maggie went to the front desk, signed in, and was handed a clipboard of paperwork to fill out. Hetty had prepared her for all of the questions that she would have to answer, of course. Maggie had memorized a sheet of information in about twenty minutes, and she promptly proceeded to fill in all the blank spaces.

"Something tells me you've done this before," I whispered to her.

"I have regular appointments, like a smart girl should," she replied quietly. "I take care of myself."

"You better." I gave her a stern glance and she grinned back at me.

"By the way," she added. "You look hot in that uniform."

"You're making Sam sick," I insisted, knowing too well that the team could hear every word.

"Damn right she is," Sam muttered, his voice coming clearly through my earpiece.

We waited for three-quarters of an hour to see Dr. Wilson. At last, a nurse called us back and led us down to the end of a long hall.

"Dr. Wilson's running a little late today," she told us. "but I promise that he'll be here as soon as possible. If you'll just wait in his office, he'll be here in a few minutes."

"Thank you," Maggie said to her. "We don't mind waiting."

As soon as she was gone, Maggie sniffed several times. "Do you smell that? It's fresh paint."

"I guess Dr. Wilson decided he didn't want his patients to see what the intruders wrote on the wall," I commented. "Hey, stand by the door and tell me when you hear someone coming."

"Roger that, G."

While Maggie kept an ear to the door, I walked around to Dr. Wilson's desk and begin thumbing through the papers. When I didn't find anything, I tapped a few keys on his computer and brought up his email.

"Here we go," I declared triumphantly. "Somebody's been getting threatening emails."

"Forward it to me, Callen," Eric ordered me through my earpiece. "And do it fast. You might not have a whole lot of time."

Very quickly, I hit the "FWD" button and typed in Eric's NCIS email address. "It's coming your way, Eric," I told him, sending the message. "Get to work on it right away."

"Callen, somebody's coming," Maggie hissed. "Get that email off the screen!"

She rushed back to her seat, and I closed out the email inbox, then hastened to take a seat beside her.

"Good afternoon," Dr. Wilson greeted us, coming into his office. "I apologize for being a few minutes late. We're helping lots of couples, as you can see, I'm sure."

"Absolutely." I nodded and waved his apology away.

"So, Mr. and Mrs. Wilson, how can I help you today?" Dr. Wilson asked, sitting down across from us.

"Well, we want to have a baby," Maggie told him, reaching over and slipping her hand into mine.

"We've been trying for almost two years now," I explained. "And we're not pregnant yet."

"We want a family more than anything," Maggie continued. "And we're wondering if you can help us with that."

"Well, here at our clinic, we're all about making that happen, and if the 'old-fashioned' way isn't working, we need to check and make sure that you're both capable of creating a child."

In mine and Maggie's ear, I could hear Kensi and Sam snickering loudly. All of a sudden, I was beginning to wish that we had sent Kensi and Deeks in to play the role of potential parents.

"Capable?" Maggie echoed. "Both of us?"

"Yes." Dr. Wilson nodded firmly. "We'll have to run multiple tests on each of you. Are you up for that?"

I coughed. "Absolutely. We are committed to having a family."

"I understand that this might be awkward for you, Mr. Fletcher," Dr. Wilson said, addressing me. "But I assure you that we try to make everyone feel completely comfortable and at ease while they're here. You'll have a very pleasant experience, I promise."

"We won't be doing those test today, thought, right?" Maggie asked him, rubbing her thumb along the back of my hand gently to relax me. In all actuality, she was distracting me and making me think about how I'd rather be spending time alone with her instead of here in this office.

"No, I'm afraid we'll have to make another appointment for that," Dr. Wilson told us. "I can have Nancy at the front desk make you an appointment, and we'll get this process started."

"Thank you so much," Maggie told him, standing up and shaking his hand. I did the same thing and, while Dr. Wilson was shaking my hand, I stopped him.

"You weren't ever involved in protests of any sort, were you?" I asked him. "My parents were hippies when they were younger, and I swear, you look like some of the pictures that they have."

The expression on Wilson's face went from cheerful to pissed off in about two seconds. "I'm afraid you've got the wrong person," he said stonily. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other patients waiting."


	11. Chapter 11

_**Okay, heads up folks. I'm going to start adding in some Deeks/ Kensi pairing. I really, really like them as a couple, and I want the show's writers to make them get together, but until then, I'll do it on my own. **_

**MAGGIE**

I thought Callen was going to bolt from the room when Dr. Wilson mentioned doing some tests on us. And then I thought that Dr. Wilson was going to bolt from the room when Callen mentioned something about recognizing him from protest photos. I was the only one who seemed to be relatively comfortable.

Dr. Wilson left the room abruptly, so G and I followed him out, hand in hand. Both of us knew that this man was hiding something, but we couldn't determine what it was right away. Some serious digging into his background would undoubtedly reveal more information.

As he walked down the hall, Dr. Wilson passed a large window. Something shattered the glass and knocked him against the opposite wall, and the loud echo of a nearby gunshot rang out.

"Everybody down!" Callen shouted as nurses and patients begin to scream. Instinctively, we both pulled our handguns out, and I ducked underneath the window so I could peer out from the other side.

"Is he dead?" I asked Callen, glancing down at the motionless doctor. He appeared to have taken a bullet to the head, and I felt certain that he couldn't have survived it.

"He's gone," Callen said, pressing two fingers to Wilson's throat and checking for a pulse.

"Damn it," I swore. "He was our best lead."

"Just stay down," G advised me. "Our shooter could still be out there."

"I'll call the rest of the team," I volunteered. "We could use a little backup here."

When Sam, Kensi, and Deeks arrived, the MPs were already on the scene and had secured the area. The shooter, whoever he was, was nowhere to be found, and we had a dozen or more witnesses to interview. The base police kindly offered to take care of that part of the investigation, and our team headed back to OSP to investigate more into Dr. Wilson and his fertility clinic.

"What reason would somebody have for killing a doctor who, for the last fifteen years, has helped couples start a family?" I wondered aloud as Callen and I sat in traffic.

"Well, Eric's intel is pretty good, so maybe somebody had a beef with this guy from years ago."

"But if he's become Dr. Wilson so well that he's working on a secure naval base, then how could someone discover who he really is?"

"That's a good question." Callen was silent for a few minutes. "Speaking of families, how do you feel about having kids? Do you want them?"

I stopped breathing for a moment; all of a sudden, Callen was talking about our lives, and not the current case. "Kids?" I replied, trying to breathe normally. "Yeah, I'd like a family. You?"

"I think so," Callen replied uncertainly. "I'm just not sure what kind of father I would make."

"You're going to be a great father, G," I told him confidently.

"Do you think that…you and me together would make good parents?" he continued. Hell, we had gotten into this conversation, so we might as well go ahead and get all the information right away.

"Yes, definitely," I declared. "We would the most cautious, well-trained kids on the block. They would know everything about guns and surveillance as well as Mickey Mouse and Spongebob Squarepants."

"Spongebob who?" Callen asked, puzzled.

"You know, the cartoon that's so popular with kids and teenagers alike?" I watched for some trace of recognition in G's ice blue eyes, but there was none. "Callen, I hate to sound like Sam, but you've got to get out a little bit more!"

"Yes, ma'am. Now, back to our family. How many kids should we have?"

This was the first time that Callen had ever made mention of a future life with me, but now he sounded very serious about it. I had never really thought about marrying Callen; I guess he didn't seem like the type to get married. Still, when I thought about it, it seemed perfectly natural that he and I should get married. We had been together for years now, and it had become perfectly natural to be with him.

"Two or three," I suggested. "But let's just start with one."

Callen and I laughed together, and I snuggled closer to him, smiling and inhaling the faint scent of sweat and gunpowder that he smelled like.

When we got back to OSP, Hetty insisted we return our costumes immediately. I was all too happy to strip out of the cute, pink clothes that she had given me. I pulled my jeans, top, and boots back on. Callen knocked on the wall beside the dressing room.

"Can I come in, baby?" he wanted to know.

"Sure," I told him, struggling to pull my shirt over my head.

"It felt good to be out there with you again," he declared, walking into the small area. "It felt right."

I smiled. "I missed working with you, too, G," I agreed, walking over and looping my arms around his neck. "Sorry if today was awkward for you."

"I'd go through it again if I had to," he assured me, putting his hands gently on my hips and pulling me close to him. "You and I are going to have a family one day, Maggie. One day soon."

"Sounds good to me," I whispered, smiling widely.

"C'mere," Callen said, leaning down and pressing his lips against mine. I sighed and responded to his kiss.

Upstairs, Eric had dug up a lot more information on Petrov Bolonov and the crimes he and his counterparts had committed. I was about to start reading over all of it when Eric's phone rang. It was Hetty, and she wanted to talk to me.

"Yes, Hetty?" I answered cautiously, unsure of what she wanted.

"I have Mr. Getz on a video conference in the boat shed in twenty minutes. Can you tear yourself away from the case long enough to speak with him?"

"Of course, Hetty. I'll leave right now."

"Thank you. Now, please let me speak with Mr. Callen next. I have something to tell him as well."

I left while Callen was on the phone with Hetty so that I could avoid his questions as to where I was going. Although I loved him to death, I didn't want him to know that I was talking to Nate regarding what had happened while I was in the Cayman Islands. There were some things that I hadn't even told G.

When I got to the boathouse, Nate was just coming online. He was wearing desert camouflage, a Kevlar vest, and a helmet.

"Nate!" I exclaimed. "Where are you exactly?"

Nate looked to the right, and then to the left. "Um…I can't say really. I'm under orders."

I chuckled. "Okay, keep your secrets. So, I'm guessing Hetty sent you my file."

"She did, and I found a lot of disturbing things in it. Did all of this really happen?"

"Well, I certainly didn't lie," I snapped. Then I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. "I'm sorry, Nate. I'm just a bit tense about all of this."

"It was hard on you?" Nate asked.

My chin quivered dangerously. "It was worse than hard," I admitted. "I've never been so scared in my whole life, Nate. I honestly didn't think I was going to make it out of there alive."

"I read where you said he left you to bleed out on the hotel room floor," Nate commented, thumbing through the file as he talked.

"I hovered between life and death for two days," I told him. "For awhile, they thought I was going to die."

"So why exactly did you want to talk to me?" Nate wanted to know curiously.

"The nightmares are getting worse," I explained. "They're vivid and terrifying. I wake up most times drenched in a cold sweat and trembling all over."

"Is there anytime that you haven't had nightmares, or do you have them every night?"

"Every night except last night," I said without thinking. Immediately, I wished that I had thought before I spoke.

"What happened last night?" Nate asked, not missing anything.

"I was…with Callen," I admitted. "I mean, not 'with' with, but just with him. We just stayed together all night, but not 'together' together."

"Okay…Well, I'd stick close to Callen, and open up to him about what happened."

"I have," I assured Nate.

"Have you told him everything? Everything that's in your report?"

Nate had caught me. "No, I haven't," I admitted.

"Then I suggest you do."


	12. Chapter 12

** _I apologize for spacing my chapters out so much now. My life has gotten really busy with class and a new job, so I'm sorry. Also, I know that I make the occasional typo; I don't admit to being perfect, but please don't keep correcting me. I'm not illiterate, I'm just writing these in a hurry, sometimes. _ **

**CALLEN**

When Maggie left the boathouse, I went in after her to have my own conversation with Nate. He was waiting patiently.

"Callen!" he exclaimed. "It's good to see you!"

"You, too," I told him. "I'll only keep you a moment. I want to talk to you about Maggie."

Nate sighed. "I guessed that much. You're worried about her, aren't you?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I am. She's opened up some, but she's not telling me everything. This isn't like Maggie, Nate. She has never had any secrets from me before now. Any advice?"

"Maggie's been working alone for a year now, Callen. She spent a long time watching her own back, and now that she's back in Los Angeles, she's confused. Not to mention, she's traumatized by everything that happened to her."

"She's not telling me everything, is she?" I wanted to know, folding my arms across my chest. "She didn't just get beat up and put in the hospital, did she?"

"No," Nate admitted. "She's not telling you everything, but I can't say anything more than that. It's up to her to open up to you."

"Any suggestions for how to make that happen?" I pressed, knowing that Nate didn't have much more time.

"Spend as much time as you can with her," he advised. "Don't let her be alone because that's when she'll have the hardest time. And I will say this: Maggie had a much harder time down there than you guys could possibly imagine."

"Thanks, Nate. Keep your head down," I told him.

"You, too."

When I got back to the operations room, Maggie and Sam were discussing the case and tossing theories back and forth. Kensi and Deeks were researching patients who might have had a grudge against Dr. Wilson. I stood in the doorway and watched Maggie for a minute, studying her the way she had studied me earlier that morning.

Maggie was blonde with long, wavy tresses that hung down to the middle of her back. Her skin was always tanned because she loved spending time at the beach. She was only a couple inches shorter than me and had worn a size 8 since she first came to OSP. When I thought about all of the things I knew about Maggie: I knew that she liked the color green best of all, that she listened to Taylor Swift and knew every word from memory, that she loved it when I tried to cook for her, and that she loved to try new things.

"What've we got?" I asked, walking into the room.

"We have eleven possible patients who might want to get revenge on Wilson," Kensi announce. "Six of them blame him for their miscarriages, two blame them for the birth defects that their babies were born with, and four insist that their money was poorly spent."

"Are all of the claims true?" I wanted to know.

"Some of them appear to be," Maggie declared. "But there are a lot of risks involved in using fertility treatments to get pregnant. Most of the mothers who miscarried had tried multiple times before with no success, and the birth defects were in older women."

"So?" Deeks asked.

"Older women have a higher risk of giving birth to Down Syndrome babies, or children with other birth defects," Kensi explained. "Everyone knows that."

"Maybe women do," Deeks told her. "But not guys."

"Okay, Romeo and Juliet, stop arguing," Sam teased the two of them. "Focus on the case at hand."

"Anyway, we have eleven potential suspects to interview," I spoke up. "But assuming that we could be dealing a killer, we need to go in pairs. One of us should stay here and continue helping Eric."

"I think it should be Deeks, since he obviously needs an education in this subject," Kensi said, smiling a syrupy sweet smile at her partner.

"That sounds good to me," Deeks replied. "Better that than having to spend a few hours with you."

I half expected Kensi to stick his tongue out at Deeks, but she didn't.

Sam and I took the Challenger while Maggie and Kensi headed off in a black Mustang GT. I could already tell that Sam was going to hit me up with questions about my relationship with Maggie, and I suspected that Maggie would be getting similar inquires from Kensi.

"So, how're things between you and Maggie?" Sam wanted to know curiously, pulling out of the OSP parking lot.

"Good," I replied vaguely.

"C'mon, G. I know there's more to it than that," Sam insisted, raising his eyebrows.

"Okay, we're still in love. Does that answer your question?"

"And?" The broad-shouldered, muscular black man pressed.

"And we talked about how many kids we want earlier today," I added.

"You talked about kids? You? G. Callen?" Sam choked on air and nearly swerved off the road. "What did you decide?"

"That we want three or four kids," I told him calmly. "What's so weird about wanting a family?"

"I just never thought I'd meet a girl who could settle you down," Sam laughed. "But I'm glad that you have. I'm proud of you, G."

"Now it's your turn," I insisted. "And since your mama doesn't come around much, I guess I'll have to act as a matchmaker."

"I'd love to see who you'd pick out for me!"

"Hey, I think I did pretty good for myself!" I objected.

Sam nodded in agreement. "You did that, man. You certainly did."


	13. Chapter 13

_**I'm curious to know if any of my fans watch CBS's new version of Hawaii Five-0. I'm considering writing a fanfic about it, so let me know if there's any interest in that show…**_

**MAGGIE**

Kensi and I headed out to interview the first couple on our list of suspects, and I knew that it was just a matter of time before she started questioning me about Callen. I didn't mind though; this time I had ammunition, and his name was Marty Deeks.

"So, how are things with you and Callen? I mean, being gone for over a year can be tough on a relationship," Kensi said five minutes after we had gotten in the car.

"It's like I never left," I told her honestly. "We're picking up right where we left off."

"That's good."

I nodded. "Yeah, it is. So, what's going on with you and Deeks? You two seem pretty…fond of each other."

Kensi laughed loudly and abruptly. "Fond is not exactly the word I would use to describe our behavior towards one another."

"Okay, so what would you describe it as?" I asked, covertly pulling my cell phone out of my pocket and holding it down so that Kensi couldn't see it. Barely moving my fingers, I held the "1" button down, dialing G.

"I'd say that Deeks and I are going to kill each other one day," Kensi predicted. "He's so irritating and insensitive! And seriously, does the guy not own a decent razor and a pair of scissors?"

I choked on my restrained laughter. "So, you're not even slightly attracted to him?"

"More like repulsed," she declared, following the directions that the GPS was giving her. "Besides, I think he and his former LAPD partner—or whatever she was—were involved."

"Aha! So, if he hadn't been involved with someone else, would you like him?" I questioned her.

"What? No!" Kensi insisted. "Let's get this conversation back to you and Callen."

"Fine," I replied reluctantly, ending my phone call to Callen. I thought he would want to hear our conversation, so I had called him and put it on speakerphone without Kensi knowing.

What Kensi had forgotten was that Callen and I had behaved identically to her and Deeks when we first met. Callen had endlessly said things that he knew would annoy me. He had persisted in calling me 'newbie' because he knew that I hated it, especially when I had already been with NCIS for years. In retaliation, I occasionally dripped something on his undercover outfits so that he would get a lecture from Hetty. I called him "boss", which annoyed him to no end. I openly accused him of having multiple personalities.

After that one operation, though, it had all stopped. All it took was Callen thinking I was going to die for him to admit how he really felt. All it took for me was to realize that I was going to lose the person I loved more than anyone else in the world, the person that I happened to trust more than anyone else in the world. Kensi and Deeks would be the same way; I only hoped they didn't wait too long to admit their feelings for each other.

When we arrived at the first couple's house, I realized right off that this wasn't someone who wouldn't have easily been able to afford the three In-Vitro fertilizations that they had tried before finally getting pregnant and then losing the baby eighteen weeks into the pregnancy.

"It must have cost them a fortune," I commented as Kensi and I climbed out of the car. "Gosh, I hope I never have to through something like that."

"So, who are we today?" Kensi wanted to know. "NCIS agents, or someone else?"

"Let's go with the NCIS agents," I suggested. "I don't want to lie to someone who has already been through hell."

"Good call," Kensi agreed, pulling her badge out.

We walked through the front yard and up onto the porch where I knocked on the front door. A middle-aged woman came to the door and opened it.

"I'm not selling it, and I'm not interested in scientology," she told us rudely. "I could care less what Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes believe."

"Ma'am, we're not selling anything, and we certainly aren't into scientology either," I told her, flashing my badge. "I'm NCIS Special Agent Maggie Dawson and this is Special Agent Kensi Blye. We'd like to talk to you about Doctor Peter Wilson."

"I saw on the news where his clinic was vandalized," Mrs. Snow told us. "Please, come inside."

Kristin Snow led us into a small, modestly-decorated living room. "I'm sorry if I was rude earlier," she apologized. "We get a lot of Girl Scouts out here, and if I eat another cookie, I won't be able to fit in my blue jeans."

"You and me both," Kensi laughed.

"So, what do you want to ask me about Wilson's fertility clinic?" Mrs. Snow wanted to know, sitting down across from us.

"You and your husband filed a lawsuit against it,' I reminded her. "After you miscarried."

Kristin sighed dismally. "I don't know why we filed that stupid suit. We were just so upset when we lost our baby that we did the only thing we could think of. It devastated us."

"You got pregnant with in vitro, correct?" Kensi asked her gently.

"Yes, that's right. It was the third time we had time done the procedure, and we were thrilled when I finally got pregnant. I did everything I was supposed to—took the prenatal vitamins, got lots of rest, and read all the books I could get. Todd and I were so happy. When I started spotting, I knew that it was all too good to be true. An ultrasound confirmed it."

"I'm very sorry for your loss," I assured her. "What hasn't been announced to the public yet is that Dr. Wilson was murdered a few hours ago."

The shock was evident in Kristin's eyes and in her expression. "Oh my gosh! That's terrible!"

"We're trying to look up anyone who has a complaint against Dr. Wilson, and you and your husband were on the list. Can you vouch for your whereabouts at around ten thirty?" Kensi wanted to know.

"Oh, yes, of course!" she exclaimed. "I was getting my haircut at Vanessa's Salon in Malibu, and Todd was at work. You can call his company to check on his alibi, but I can assure you that neither my husband nor I are angry enough to have murdered Dr. Wilson."

"Thank you for your time, Mrs. Snow," I told her, standing up. "We'll be in touch if we have any more questions."

"I certainly hope you find the killer. Dr. Wilson made my dreams come true, even if I never got to deliver the baby. I still had a life growing inside me for many weeks, and it was something I would never take back. Not for anything."

_**Okay, so I didn't' really like this chapter, but I promise that the next one will be better. And I'll start adding clues about what happened to Maggie in the Caymans. Don't forget to let me know if any of you guys would read a Hawaii Five-0 fanfic by me. **_


	14. Chapter 14

**CALLEN**

After three hours of interviewing, none of us had come up with any possible killers. Everyone seemed to be totally innocent, and we were all starting to wonder if we were looking in the wrong direction.

Around eight in the evening, we all decided to go home, take showers and then come back to work on the case for a while longer. Maggie and I decided to go back to her apartment to shower, and I drove us there quickly.

Maggie leaved in an apartment that overlooked the beach; she loved the sand and the sound of the crashing waves. She said it soothed her frazzled nerves after a long day of working undercover.

"So, what did you think about Kensi's defense against liking Deeks?" Maggie asked me as we cruised along the highway.

"She's way too defensive to be telling the truth," I replied. "And she changed the subject back to us way too quick."

"What did Sam ask you about us?" Maggie wanted to know, reaching over and slipping her hand into mine.

"How our relationship was going since you got back, where it was going now that you got back, and how you managed to settle me down," I told her.

"I don't think I settled you down, did I?" Maggie smiled lovingly at me. "I like to think I fell in love with the wild, untamed G Callen and that he fell in love with me."

"Damn right I fell in love with you," I assured her. "Now, stop distracting me, or I'll have to pull over and kiss you right here!"

We finally made it back to Maggie's apartment, and I unlocked the door for her with the key that I had. She flipped the light switch on and walked in, sighing happily.

"It's good to be home," she commented, looking around at her apartment. Only then did I realize that she hadn't been back since she arrived in Los Angeles.

"I watered all your plants," I told her. "Fed the fish, got your mail, slept on your sheets…"

"You slept here?" Maggie exclaimed. "Why?"

"Well, a lot of times it was here, or the couch in the bullpen. You know that I've always felt safe here."

Maggie stood on tip-toe and looped her arms around my neck. "Did you know that you're really sweet?" she asked me. "And I mean totally, completely, one-hundred percent adorable?"

"If you ever, ever let Sam hear you call me that, I'll never live it down," I pointed out, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her close. I loved the way her body easily molded to fit against mine and how she had to stand on the tips of her toes to have her head level with mine.

"I promise that I'll keep my mouth shut around him," Maggie whispered. "Now, I think that maybe you and I sho—" I silenced her by pressing my lips against hers firmly. She sighed immediately and melted against me. Our mouths seemed fused together by some mystical, mysterious force, and I scooped Maggie up in my arms and carried her over to the leather couch.

"We have to shower," Maggie objected weakly, pulling apart for a few moments.

"You showered this morning," I reminded her, kissing her forehead, then her cheek, then her eyelid, and the tip of her nose.

"But…I need to…shower…again," Maggie insisted, my kisses distracting her though pattern. She tilted her head to the side so that I could kiss her neck better, and I knew that I had won the battle of shower versus snuggling on the couch.

"I'm glad you're back," I told her, running my fingers through her long hair.

Suddenly, Maggie wasn't trailing kisses down my neck, too; she was clinging to me like a shipwreck survivor clung to a floating piece of wood. "I missed you, too," she replied, her voice overflowing with emotion. "Oh, G, I missed you so bad! So, so, so bad!"

"Maggie, what aren't you telling me?" I asked her quietly, remembering Nate's advice not to push her too hard.

"You remember how…how I was always such a good, Christian girl?" she asked me, sniffing. "In order to maintain my cover, I had to…" Here Maggie broke down sobbing on my shoulder, and I pulled her closer, preferring to remain silent.

"I just so wanted my first time to be with you," she cried. "And instead it was with some stupid arms dealer on a damn undercover mission."

So that was it; that was the trauma that Maggie had dealt with while undercover. Maggie's faith was such a huge part of her life, and she had always obeyed certain moral codes. To find out that she had been violated against her will for the sake of a mission hurt something deep inside me, and I wanted to make her feel safe again.

"It'll be okay, Maggie," I assured her, stroking her back tenderly. "I promise you that this doesn't change anything between you and me, baby."

"I'm so ashamed, G." Maggie raised her head up, and I gazed sorrowfully down on her tear-streaked face and her red eyes. "I feel so disgusting and dirty. So low and ugly."

"You're not disgusting, or dirty, or low, or ugly," I insisted, holding her face in between my hands. "You're beautiful, and you did what Vance told you to do. Speaking of which, I'll kill the director the next time I see him. I can't believe he made you do that."

"All I could think about was how I had made you keep your hands off me for two years, and how he took all of that away in about ten minutes," she told me sadly. "I just…I so wanted it to be with you."

"You and I will have our chance when we get married," I promised Maggie. "Our wedding night will still be special."

"That's the first time you've ever said anything about getting married," Maggie said, a little happiness returning to her blue eyes. "Do you really want to marry me, G Callen?"

My answer was to kiss her slowly and sweetly.

Maggie and I got back to work an hour later, both a bit different than we had been when we left. We had, for the first time in our relationship, discussed marriage. I wanted to marry Maggie, and she wanted to marry me. Now, the only obstacle was getting the decision by Hetty and Director Vance, and Vance had me to deal with. He had put Maggie in a situation where she had been forced to go against her own set of rules. He had put her in a situation where she had had to sacrifice the thing that she valued most—her modesty. It would take all of my self-restraint not to shoot him the moment I saw him.

Of course, the next think I had to do was get a ring. Maybe this was where Sam's opinion could come in handy. Or maybe I'd have to get Hetty's advice in that area…


	15. Chapter 15

_**Guys, I hate to say it(especially since you've all been so good about reviewing each chapter) but I'm going to have to put this story on hiatus. I'm just too busy, and I need to be working on some of my more serious work, along with work and school. I'm really sorry about this. Check out some of my other fanfics that are already completed, though. **_


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